


Morning Hours

by catwithoutears



Series: Within The Walls of 221B [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 18:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catwithoutears/pseuds/catwithoutears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This morning the flat was filled with the scent of brewing coffee and the sound of yet a new composition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Hours

**Author's Note:**

> My first Johnlock! I've never written fluff before so I hope I did okay . This is not beta-read so I apologize for any errors that may appear!  
> Dedicated to Anna (britisharetakingover.tumblr.com)

This morning the flat was filled with the scent of brewing coffee and the sound of yet a new composition. The other side of the bed was warm, not from a warm body lying there, but from the sunlight that was pouring in through the window. Sherlock probably got out of bed at sunrise, not able to bear the sun in his eyes one more second, and now he was somewhere in the small flat with his violin under his chin. John mumbled in his half sleep, turning away from the bright sunlight that flooded into the room. Sherlock hadn't closed the curtains. He never did, anyway. John rubbed at his eyes and sat up, pulling the sheet off himself and yawning. His feet hit the floorboards and he got up, still not fully awake. Somewhere, probably the kitchen, a window was open; a mild summer breeze carried the smell of coffee into the bedroom. Sherlock had probably done it on purpose.  
The shirt Sherlock wore yesterday was thrown over the back of a chair; John put it on. It still smelt like Sherlock, it gave him that fluffy comfy feeling in his chest. He went sleepily into the sitting room, drawn to the coffee he knew Sherlock had brewing in the kitchen. The cheery melody from Sherlock's violin came closer, and the man himslef came dancing out of the kitchen. His robe was loosely tied around his waist, flapping and dancing around his legs when he moved. He didn't greet John when he realized he too was awake, he just looked concentrated on his music. He looked up so their eyes met, and smiled a good moring.  
"Morning," John smiled, heading for the kitchen. Sherlock leaned swiftly down and pecked him on the cheek as he swept past him.  
The coffee was almost done brewing, and John leaned his back against the counter as he waited, listening to the soft melodies from the other room. He poured two cups of coffee and put them on the kitchen table before making breakfast. He heard Sherlock humming a bit as the smell of fried mushrooms drifted into the sitting room.  
Sherlock was still playing when John sat at the table eating. He just sat there, taking sips of his coffee while the violin kept spewing out note after note and throwing them together in another complex composition.  
There was a knock on the door and John called for them to enter. Mrs Hudson smiled friendly at him when the door opened, and she stepped into the flat. She looked around, probably for Sherlock.  
"You've been playing for ages, Sherlock, is everything allright?" Of course she had heard from downstairs. Sherlock came sweeping into the kitchen, never stopping the music. He looked at Mrs Hudson and his nod said "Morning, Mrs Hudson," before he went to stand by the window, looking out on the street outside 221B. John just looked at him and smiled. Usually, he would be worried, but there was something about Sherlock today. He seemed so cheery. He had smiled at John when he had woken up, even his music was cheery. It wasn't like him, but a cheery Sherlock didn't at all bother him. Mrs Hudson looked more concerned, apart from curios.  
"Are you allright, Sherlock? What are you thinking so hard about?" She stepped closer to the table and her fingers curled around the back on one of the chairs. Sherlock didn't flinch.  
"I'm not thinking," he said absent mindedly, and kept playing. There was silence for a bit, mostly because Mrs Hudson didn't know what that meant or what to respond. But Sherlock spoke again, against everyone's expectations.  
"I'm just happy."  
John was almost startled, because he had never heard Sherlock say those words, but he just smiled into his coffee mug without saying a word. Mrs Hudson smiled too, and made mine to leave. "That's great, Sherlock."  
After the door had closed behind her, Sherlock turned away from the widnow. He went into the sitting room without a word, but not after long he stopped playing. When he music stopped, John looked up from his paper, to find Sherlock walking back into the kitchen and taking a seat opposite him. They fell into a silence that consisted of Sherlock eating breakfast looking content, and John just sipping his coffee and looking up at him occasionally. John put his mug down, smiled a bit.  
"Are you really happy?" he asked, almost a bit afraid of doing so. Sherlock looked up, locked his blue eyes with John's, and just looked at him for a little while.  
"I am." He nodded the slightest bit.

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think?  
> I will write more oneshots to this verse because I love the idea of John and Sherlock being all cute :)


End file.
